


Happy New Year

by telemachus



Series: Chasing Cars [5]
Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: Longing, M/M, Silence, any year for more than i care to think about, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A New Year Resolution made - and kept - perhaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy New Year

Countdown approaches, and I look across the room, across the swaying mass of partygoers.

Not searching for him, for that well-known shock of curls, that sleek movement, that look of perfection – I don’t need to search. I know exactly where he is.

I always know exactly where he is.

Like one of those pigeons, knowing where home is, feeling the call across miles of untravelled country – and there’s a thing, how do they do that? Magnetic radiance or something isn’t it? That’s what I saw once, some science programme on telly. 

Maybe that’s what I’ve got – some kind of magnetic programming.

Can’t help it – I always know where he is, I’m always aware of him.

He’s copped off.

Almost as though he feels my gaze – and maybe he does, maybe it’s been oxygen to him all through the years I’ve spent watching – he looks up, and gives me that grin. Looks back at the shag, does that raised finger, stay there, right there thing that he does, and starts ambling over to me.

Of course, anyone else would have to push their way through the crowd, anyone else would be slowed down by strangers, by friends, by concern for not spilling drinks.

Not him.

He ambles, hips moving as though they’ve been oiled, and all the crowd parts for him, the world makes life easy.

Taking a breath, I remind myself of my resolve.

This year – this year will be different.

No more waiting, no more trailing after, no more silence and hiding.

This year – this year I’ll say it.

This year I’ll give him a choice – we can carry on, friends like we’ve always been, but – I won’t be waiting any more, I’ll be looking for someone else. Really looking, prepared to make the effort – accept it’s not to be for us and learn to love someone else, learn to want someone different, someone who wants me.

Or – or everything can change. Because maybe it’s just fear of change that’s holding us back.

This year, I’ll say it.

I love you.

I need you to love me – to tell me you love me, straight-out, not cryptic, not playing. I need you to – touch me, hold me, like a lover not a friend.

And if you can’t, won’t – then it’s time for me to accept it.

He’s closer now, and the clock is ticking.

I can do this.

Just imagine – as though I need to imagine again, I’ve done nothing but imagine for so many years – imagine tomorrow, imagine life as it could be.

Then I look past him, see the blond still waiting, obedient, as hypnotised by his presence as I am.

Why would he give all that up – the thrill of the chase, the excitement of the new – just to have me?

And I see tomorrow as it will be. 

His back turned, his show of indifference cutting like a knife as I – humiliated, crushed –flounder desperately for words to cover the silence, the aching gap between my desire and his affection.

He reaches me, even as they count.

_Ten, nine, eight._

I can do this. 

_Seven, six, five._

Imagine tomorrow.

_Four, three, two._

Imagine tomorrow.

_One._

I’m no gambler.

“Happy New Year!” he says, and he kisses my cheek, “anyone you fancy for tonight?”

“No,” I say, and he swings me round, laughing, as I add, “Happy New Year.”

Coward, I think, minutes later, as he makes his charmed way through the crowd back to the blond.

Realist, I tell myself. Play with fire, you get burned. He won’t remember the blond’s name tomorrow – probably doesn’t now – but this time next year, we’ll still be friends.

Happy New Year.

It’s good enough for me.


End file.
